Fight For It

by Jessie Harper

  30

  Zach

  I can feel her before I even turn around. I shouldn't be able to smell Julia from across the room, especially with my back turned, but for a split second I close my eyes and breathe her in like she's next to me. When I look over my shoulder she's standing there, and when our eyes meet there’s a sizzle as if I've put my finger in an electrical socket. We've been dancing around all night, confined to flirting by the constant presence of Charlie and Noah. Now we're as close to alone as we're going to get.

  But my hands are in the sink and covered with soapy water and Julia's not close enough for me to touch. As if she senses what I'm feeling she slides up next to me. Without a word she reaches for a plate and then we're working together, our wet hands accidentally brushing, our arms grazing each other. When she tries to reach around me to put a glass in the dishwasher my resolve dissipates. Instead of moving out of her way, I lean toward her and catch her bottom lip in my teeth. Her eyes widen in surprise, but she leans in and then our mouths are melting together, our hands still holding what's left of the dinner dishes.

  Julia seems content to stay this way, but already I'm wanting more. I want no space between us. The plate I'm holding clatters into the sink as I move a soapy hand to the nape of her neck. She opens her mouth wider and our tongues tangle, but I pull away. As much as I need to touch her, I need to clear the air first. I haven't been straightforward through all of this and I need to make that right before my brain completely fogs over with my need for her.

  Julia groans as cold air rushes into the space where our bodies were touching. Her brow knits in confusion and I take my thumb and rub the spot on her forehead where the skin crinkles.

  "Am I missing something?" she asks.

  "No." I clear my throat. "I just have some things to say first before, um, before things get... before things get... God, Julia, you make it hard for me to concentrate."

  The crinkled "v" between her eyebrows returns again and she takes a step back. "I don't understand."

  "I need to be honest with you so we start things out the right way. No misunderstandings."

  Julia's wary now, her shoulders tight and her eyes narrowing. Even though I'll confess to having no plan here, this is going worse than I could have imagined. I want her against me, soft and warm, not folding her arms against her chest and preparing for a fight.

  I dive back in, hoping she'll see why this is important. Hoping she'll see why I need to talk instead of kissing her. "When you told me about what you found out—about your husband—I didn't react the way I should have. My own shit got in the way of being there for you, of being the person you needed in that moment. I need to apologize for that. I know that Paul promised you things and that he didn't keep those promises. But I can promise you that no matter where this goes, I will be honest with you."

  I expect Julia's face to relax, but instead she looks even more confused. She lets out a long breath and leans against the counter. A tiny oh escapes her lips.

  "That was too much, wasn't it?" I ask her, scrubbing my hand over the new stubble on my chin. I wonder if she's going to bail, if I've made things too serious too fast.

  "No, I've just never had anyone just come out and say something like that to me," Julia confesses. She smiles a bit and I can feel a weight start to lift off my chest. Maybe I haven't blown it yet.

  "I just, I'm insanely attracted to you. And I don't want to get caught up in the physical part of this without making my intentions clear to you. I'd like to take you to dinner tomorrow night as more than friends. If you're ready for that."

  Julia puts her hand under her chin. "Hmmm. Well then, I accept your invitation with the full understanding of your intentions and I'll go ahead and let you know that I am completely onboard with that, provided I can get a sitter, of course."

  "Of course." Again with the uncontrollable grinning. At least now there are two of us.

  "Should we shake on it or something?" she asks.

  I reach for her hand and pull her to me. "I have a better idea." And I lower my lips to meet hers.

  31

  Zach

  I'm still shocked to find myself back on Julia's front porch. This time I'm in something other than a T-shirt, and to make things feel even more like prom, I've washed my truck. If that isn't the surest sign I've lost my mind then the gigantic bouquet of flowers I'm holding comes a close second. I was doing alright until Marcie at the florist started making suggestions. Once she found out I was on my way to pick up Julia for what is our first real date she went a little crazy. They're beautiful, but big enough that I could use them for camouflage if any of the neighbors get too interested. I'm considering this when the door flies open.

  "Hi," I manage.

  "Were you ever going to ring the doorbell?"

  "Eventually. I was trying to get myself in the right frame of mind. You look..."

  "Terrified?" she asks.

  "I was going to say beautiful. You look beautiful." She's wearing a red dress that shows off her legs and her hair is loose. Like me she's not in her usual uniform and the fact that she's gone to some trouble makes my chest ache. "You're terrified?"

  "A little," she confesses. "Do you want to come in? Charlie and Noah are at my parents'."

  "Sure." I'm not certain how to act now that we've agreed to try being more than friends. "What's the first date etiquette for coming in before the date even officially starts?"

  "Did you just use the word 'etiquette'?" At least I have her laughing a little bit as she motions me inside. "I'm the last person to ask about dating rules."

  "Good. Then this should go well since neither one of us knows what we're doing." I smile and hand her the flowers. "Sorry they're so gigantic. Marcie convinced me to go big or go home."

  Julia takes the bouquet from me and buries her face in the petals. "Marcie Collier? Is she still here? I'll have to remember to thank her."

  "Don't thank her just yet. I'm sure she's telling anyone who'll listen right now that you and I are dating." I grimace. We're trying this out, but that doesn't mean Julia wants it broadcast all over town. We've agreed not to tell her boys and my blabbering mouth at the florist might be my first bad decision of the night.

  "That'll save us the trouble of taking out an ad in the newspaper or buying billboard space, I guess." Julia doesn't seem too concerned with being the subject of local gossip. "I'm going to get a vase for these. Do you want a drink?" I follow her into the kitchen and pull out a stool.

  "Sure. I assume there's no rule against having a drink before."

  She's reaching up to get a vase from one of the high shelves in the kitchen and her dress rides up just enough to give me a good look at her upper thigh. I consider going to help her and running my hand up the length of her leg but remind myself that if there are rules for this, that is most likely going to be breaking one of them.

  "I've gone on exactly two dates in recent memory and both were horrible."

  The idea that someone else took Julia on a date makes a bubble of jealousy begin to rise in my chest. I think about someone else kissing her goodnight and I have to stifle a growl.

  "And before that I don't think I'd been on a date since high school, really. Paul and I met at a frat party and kind of just fell into things. No dating there." Julia stares past me, her hands freezing in midair above the flowers. "These really are beautiful, by the way."

  I smile, momentarily saved from the realization that the last person who took Julia out was probably Graham. I don't have any right to get upset, but my fingers find the back of my neck anyway. I'm trying to rub away the idea of Graham's hands on Julia when she pulls me back to reality.

  "What about you?"

  "What about me what?"

  "Have you been a dating machine since your divorce?" She's joking, but it doesn't put me at ease. Since Abbey I've been living in a metaphorical cave. Not many women are interested in joining a guy in the pit of despair.

  "Would you believe me if I told you I wa
s? I've basically taken every single woman in this town out. You're lucky you showed up when you did because I was just about to have to start expanding my radius."

  "I see. I'll take that as a no then." Julia smirks. "We're basically two social idiots who have managed to find each other."

  "Exactly."

  "Then I have an idea." Julia's moving toward me, a bottle of beer in each hand. "Let's not worry about the rules."

  "No rules?" As much as the idea excites certain parts of my anatomy, I'm going to need more clarification.

  "Not no rules exactly." Julia takes a swig of her beer and plants herself in front of me. "Just, we make our own rules about this."

  "Give me an example."

  Julia thinks. "Cards on the table."

  "Cards on the table?" She's close enough that I can smell her.

  "We both need honesty, right? We make that a rule. Be upfront so there aren't any surprises."

  "I agree with that. Do I get to add a rule?" I take a sip of my beer and look her in the eye. I shift on the stool so she's between my legs.

  "Sure. Hit me with it."

  "No pressure. I want us to have fun. I like being with you and I don't want this," I gesture to the flowers, "to suffocate things. Or terrify you."

  "Sounds good. I like being with you, too." She ducks her head and the shyness of the move tugs at my heart.

  "So, what do you think about pre-date kissing?" I move one hand to the small of her back to pull her in closer to me.

  "Are we still pre-date or has the date officially started?"

  "Does it matter?"

  "I don't think there's a rule against that either way." Julia takes my beer and sets it next to hers on the counter. "Or at least there shouldn't be." Her voice is whisper soft.

  "Come here." It comes out rougher than I planned, but Julia comes willingly, her lips pressing to mine. She melts into me, running a hand up my back. I slide one hand to the nape of her neck, angling her to give myself better access to her mouth. My other hand slides lower, cupping her ass. I pull her closer to me, my erection threatening to burst through the fabric of my pants. Julia groans and I kiss her harder. I contemplate adding a rule that allows never leaving the house. I bury my face in the nape of her neck and nip at her collarbone.

  "Before things get too out of hand here I should let you know that I did actually plan something other than manhandling you," I confess. "But I am more than happy just to stay here." I pull back to look into her eyes. "Provided we stay like this, that is."

  "Mmmm." Julia leans in to run her nose along my neck. "What did you have planned?"

  "I'm not going to tell you. If I can convince you to let me keep kissing you then I can use my first date plan another time."

  "You sound pretty confident that there's going to be a second date."

  "Good point. Maybe I should dazzle you with my plan just to be sure you agree to go out with me again."

  "So now it's a dazzling plan? For that I might be willing to postpone what we've got going on here to see what you've put together."

  "Postpone?" I try not to sound too hopeful. I want to take Julia out, to let everyone see her with me, but I also desperately want to get her out of her dress. The sooner the better.

  "Oh, we're going to get back to this." Julia takes a quick nip at my bottom lip, grabs my hand, and pulls me toward the front door.

  I may have oversold my date planning abilities. Taking Julia to dinner doesn't fall anywhere near dazzling on the excitement scale. I bring her to the one place I would have loved to have taken her in high school back when seventeen-year-old Zach had approximately zero chance of dating Julia Myers. It's one of the few places still standing from back then and her eyes light up when I pull the truck into the parking lot.

  "Are you kidding me?" she exclaims. "The Maple? How is this place still here?"

  "I guess some things are impervious to change." I put the truck into park.

  "I haven't been here since..." she thinks for a beat. "High school? Father daughter dance, I think. I used to love this place."

  "Hopefully, you still will." I've got my fingers crossed for that. I've taken a risk that The Maple wasn't her special spot with someone else but taking her here is like fulfilling some secret wish I didn't even know I had. I hop out to open her door and lead her up the stone path to the front of the restaurant. I've even managed to remember to make a reservation so when we push through the front door we're immediately taken upstairs to the dining room overlooking the pond in the back. The Maple is old school romantic, but not over the top. I'm patting myself on the back for pulling this part off without a hitch.

  The second part of my date plan is much riskier. At least high school Zach tells me it is. As we wind up and around the hillside, I try not to get too nervous about how Julia will react. It could go either way, really. She might love what I have planned. But the closer we get the more sure I am that she's going to hate it. Maybe I should have pushed harder to stay in. At least then I could have been assured of more time with her chest pressed against mine.

  The crunch of gravel under the truck tires lets me know we're almost to the top of the hill. I sneak a quick glance at Julia, but she's looking out the window, trying to get her bearings. And maybe deciding if I'm an ax murderer taking her to some secluded spot to finish her off. Once we round the final curve I pull the truck to the side of the road and put it in park.

  "Where are we?" Julia scans the horizon.

  "Barrett Park. Have you never been up here?"

  "Not at night."

  I'm secretly relieved. Barrett Park was a notorious make out spot when we were teenagers. That Julia hasn't ever been driven up here to park does funny things to my chest. I almost want to pump my fist in the air. Breathe, I remind myself. And thirty-four-year-old me manages to keep pushing air in and out of his lungs.

  "This is the best place to see the skyline. And shooting stars." I swivel in my seat and watch Julia crane her head to see more of the sky out the front windshield. "Give me two seconds to set up."

  "Set up? What are you up to?" Luckily, Julia looks more intrigued than wary.

  "Just sit tight for a minute."

  I unfold myself from the front seat of the truck and pull a duffel from the back of the cab. Buying a truck with four seats had seemed like a reasonable idea when I was with Abbey. I was sure there would be car seats in the back eventually. Once it became clear that there would never be a baby at all, I regretted pulling out of the dealership with this monster. But tonight I'm happy to have room to cart everything I need without calling too much attention to it. Once I'm around the back I climb up into the bed and get organized. Then I take a deep breath, give myself a good shake, and force myself to go and get Julia.

  Opening the passenger door triggers the overhead light, making it clear Julia's sitting stock still in her seat, not even trying to figure out what I've been up to. She's killing me.

  "Ready?" I reach out my hand. Julia doesn't hesitate; she puts her hand in mine and hops down out of the cab. I steer her around to the bed of the truck, keeping my attention focused on her face. Hopefully I'll know if I've gone overboard or if she's uncomfortable. I ran this idea past my sisters and the jury's still out as to the reaction I'll get. Either Julia will think I've been romantic and thoughtful or she'll think I'm "Marty McFly trying to fuck her in the back of my truck." That last part was Kat's interpretation and I'm hoping Julia doesn't think any of that at all.

  When she sees what I've done—blankets and pillows in the back, wine in plastic cups, flashlights if we need them—her brow crinkles and then relaxes. I'm hoping it looks comfortable but not too, as Amy suggested, "cowboy bordello." Julia turns her face toward mine and smiles a shy smile. "Are we going to hang out in the back of your truck?"

  "If you're comfortable with that. There's a meteor shower tonight so hopefully we can see a few shooting stars. If we're lucky we'll see more than a few."

  "You managed to arrange a meteor shower for
our date?"

  "Obviously. I assume you're used to that, right? A meteor shower, spontaneous dolphins at the beach, fabulous sunsets. Don't all your dates do stuff like that?"

  Julia closes the remaining two steps between us and rises up on her tiptoes to kiss me on the cheek. "No, actually, they don't."

  The night sky is clear, stars twinkling in the distance as I help Julia up into the bed of the truck. I hadn't factored her dress into the equation when I concocted my plan, but she's surprisingly agile as she hoists herself up along the edge of the tailgate and slides over. There's some general awkwardness as we get ourselves organized—the swaying of the truck making it hard to keep arms and legs moving in the right direction. Finally we're leaned against the back of the cab, just enough blanket to keep the metal from biting into Julia's skin, but hopefully not enough to make her question my motives too much.

  "Are we allowed to drink out here?" she asks me as she takes a sip of her wine from the red SOLO cup I've placed in her hand.

  "Probably not." I take a sip of my own. There's a hint of that plastic taste from the cup, but I think it's passable. "But I don't think there's anyone to catch us. Unless you want to make a citizen's arrest?" I get the quickest flash of Julia with a pair of handcuffs and have to file it away before my imagination gets the better of me.

  "Wouldn't I have to arrest myself too, though? So not worth it." She smiles and takes another drink. "I haven't had wine in a plastic cup in a while."

  "Another special touch. Super elegant, right?" I lift my cup toward hers and we bump them together. The plastic clunk is less satisfying than the clink of real wine glasses, but right now I can't think of anything more perfect.

  "We didn't toast to anything. Shouldn't we have a toast or something?"

  I'm terrible at making any sort of toast. No one wants me to stand up at a wedding and say a few words. I have a nagging habit of letting my melancholy squash the happiness of the moment so I don't try to be eloquent. "How about to seeing what happens?"